He was the strong one
the carpenter
the guy with the motorcycle
who built his own cabin
who carried both his daughters
in one arm.
I never saw him after he got sick
after every part of his body
forgot what to do
every part but his mind
held hostage
as a witness
to his own fading
away.
But I will un-fade him.
When I see his daughters
I will tell them
how they used to laugh
when he carried them like that
in one arm.
I will find words
that crack with colour
and I will paint that memory
for them
for him
of how he was the strong one
the day he carried them
in one arm
their laughter
pouring out
like light.